Sunshine approaches

We are told to prepare for sunshine tomorrow, albeit with temperatures hovering just above freezing. I am not certain how best to do this. Having not seen the sun in living memory I do not want my eyes to be frazzled by the first rays. As the song says, The Future’s So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades. I have an old picture of when we last had sunshine in Arundel.

Not a grey day

Actually that is one of the best song titles ever, I think my top 3 would be the above, plus “Beware Of The Flowers ‘Cause I’m Sure They’re Gonna Get You, Yeah” (the 7th best lyric of the last Millennium. According to the BBC poll which was allegedly fixed but for which I categorically deny involvement) by John Otway and “There’s A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop swears He’s Elvis” by the late Kirsty MaCall.

So last night I was allowed to break my carbohydrate fast, which I did spectacularly by consuming all those carbs that I had missed earlier the week and more. More because I fear I shall be reigned in tomorrow and needed to stock up in the face of a carbohydrate famine for the rest of the week. The bathroom scales are still being unnecessarily negative, or rather, positive in a negative sort of way if you get my drift, and it does not take a clairvoyant to predict carb denial for me for the foreseeable future.

It has taken longer than I had expected for the normal round of tasteless jokes to circulate but they have begun. I would dearly like to be able to impart details of the one I heard yesterday concerning the late Sir Jimmy Savile but it is too gross, so I will leave you with the catch phrase and you can try to imagine the start; “how’s about that then?”. I am sure there will now be a torrent of similarly tasteless offerings in the days to come.

Talking of days to come, the weekend approaches and I will be able to ease my foot off the metaphorical accelerator in respect of my work for Currencies Direct. Three new customers this week should earn me a gold star and save three lucky individuals from being ripped off by their banks when transferring money abroad. At the same time I must continue preparations for the completion of my second book The Valbonne Monologues. By that I mean I shall have to monitor the proof reading which I have cleverly delegated to the lovely Lin Wolff from the English Book Centre in Valbonne because she offered to do it for nothing. It does not look good at the moment with just three chapters out of a hundred or so completed. The editor of my first offering, Dawn Howard, may expect a panicky call shortly.

I have been receiving guidance on search engine optimisation and the use of Facebook and Twitter to get ones message across. It is a completely baffling world for this tired old author. I now have several twitter feeds, so I can tweet, (which until recently would have suggested to me something to do with pigeon food) plus a Facebook page for my new book. I am told that I must tweet and post every day for the full effect to be noticed. I gave it a week before I tire of this irksome self-imposed work load. What happened to lunch three times a week in the sunshine and tennis outside? The answer is that it is all still going on down in Valbonne except without me. How can it be that I am camped in a world of great and damp, working, especially at my age? It is because I am thinking of you dear reader and your requirement for that very special original Christmas present, a book signed by the author himself. As you can see it is self-imposed selflessness.

Chris France

@Valbonne_News